Fixing Him
by Epona's Chosen
Summary: After Laseema's death, Atin feels like he has nothing left. But if anyone knows how to fix things, it's Fixer. Even if he can't find the right words. Angst/Comfort fic, slight Atin/Fixer. AU.


**Hello! This is my first RepCom fic, I'm only just starting Order 66 :) But I love it, and I got the idea for this in my English lesson today. I know Laseema isn't really dead, although I'm not fond of her and I'm in love with Fixer/Atin at the moment lol. HUGEEE thanks to my Beta and best friend Alice - TheLightIsMine! x3 x3 x3 :P**

**Disclaimer: I don't own RepCom obviously, otherwise I wouldn't put it on here :)**

**Please read and enjoy!**

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><p>Atin sat on their bed in his and Laseema's apartment. He hadn't moved in over six hours, seven minutes and thirty-four seconds. That was when he'd been told, told that his beloved Laseema had been cruelly ripped from his grasp by a disgusting Weequay. That <em>chakaar<em>. He didn't have look at his chrono to tell him how long it had been. He just knew. That call from Vau over the comlink had been the worst he'd ever heard. He would have thought Kal would have made it, but maybe he hadn't been around.

He'd never felt so bad in his short life. He feared the pain would never go away. You would have thought he could deal with losing things, especially after losing his closest _vode_. It was fair to say that Laseema had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. She was his _shereshoy_. She wasn't even _supposed_ to die before him. _He_ was the one with the shortened life span. He didn't even want to live a normal life if he didn't have Laseema to share it with. He missed her more than anything. Even more than his old squad – something he'd always believed to be impossible. Everything he had was taken from him by spiteful means. His old squad, _Fi_ – although he'd never really said it out loud, but he felt closest to Fi than the rest of Omega – and now he'd lost the one he loved. Laseema. He forced images of her mangled body from his mind; Vau hadn't mentioned how horrible her death had been and his mind was creating ghastly images of her, her eyes wide and terrified and begging for him to save her. But he hadn't. He'd let her down, when it had mattered most. And now she was dead. Everything he touched was annihilated in the most terrible ways. It was his fault. He must be cursed in some way. He couldn't think of another reason for it. Why else would it happen? Why else would they have all died?

Atin didn't realise he was crying until the salty tears seeped through his clothes. Then he began to sob uncontrollably. He couldn't stop. He knew it was weak and pathetic to cry but he couldn't help it. He buried his face in his hands, the tears slipping through the gaps as his mind prepared to cry a river. He couldn't think, couldn't speak and he didn't want to unless it was Laseema he was thinking about or speaking to. He wanted to just lock himself away and never talk to anyone. He was also slightly scared he'd lash out at somebody if he did, and then risk losing them as well. It was the final straw; he'd _never_ take anything for granted again. He wondered why he hadn't realised sooner that nothing in life came with a guarantee. He had to protect them to the best of his abilities and talking to Niner while his love was being killed was the least amount of protection he'd ever given to her. He'd trained her a little, taught her some self-defence, but he could have done so much more. He could have given her a blaster, like Mereel gave to Besany, but no. He'd left her unprotected while she got some of her remaining belongings from Qibbu's Hut. _Di'kut_. He should have gone with her. She would still be alive if he had.

The floods of tears were gradually slowing, but not because he was feeling better, simply because he had nothing left to cry. He curled up on the bed, clutching his stomach to attempt to stop the shaking and trembling, but to no avail. He felt empty. _Ut'reeyah_. Alone and unloved, uncared for and scared. Not as in I-could-die-today-if-I-don't-do-this-right, scared because he thought he'd never be complete again.

All his defences were down. He was completely unguarded and there was no-one there to see it. He wanted Laseema to walk through the door, hold him in her arms and tell him everything was okay, that she'd never leave him. Not for anything, not even death. But she couldn't. Facing the fact that she was dead was much too hard for him to comprehend. Laseema. Dead. No. Impossible. Yet, it was something that could never be changed. No amount of research and genealogists could bring back the dead. Not as they were.

Atin was so out of it that he hadn't heard the front door to Laseema's – _his_, his now, he thought with a stab of pain - apartment open. He hadn't heard the footsteps padding quietly across the floor towards the door.

But he reacted fast when his door opened, however slowly and gently it was. He grabbed his deece from the bedside table and held it ready to fire. He slowly lowered it when he saw the male standing there. A male who was an almost perfect replica of himself, apart from the scars that lined Atin's face absent in the reflection staring at him.

Atin recognised him immediately. The posture and from the way he stepped almost shyly into the room. It was RC-1140, more commonly known as Fixer.

"I came to see if you were all right," Fixer said, noticing Atin's crumpled clothes, bloodshot eyes and the tear tracks on his cheeks. "But you're obviously not."

Atin dropped the gun and sat on the bed. He ignored Fixer. He didn't want to speak to anyone. He was surprised it was Fixer that had come; maybe he'd expected Niner, or possibly Darman. He guessed he'd leave once he saw he wasn't wanted.

Fixer did entirely the opposite. He went and sat next to Atin. He had never experienced the kind of romance that Atin had. _Fierfek_, he hadn't experienced any, other than hearing comments about Besany and Ordo, Etain and Darman, or Atin and Laseema.

Fixer wasn't entirely sure if he could help. All he knew was that Atin was broken and he needed fixing. He hadn't quite realised how broken Atin was. He hadn't known just how much Atin had loved Laseema, but he wanted to try and stop him from doing anything stupid. Really stupid. Like deliberately getting involved in something that would kill him, because Fixer didn't want that. Not at all. He didn't know why, but he'd always liked Atin. He liked his stubbornness and fierceness. He respected and admired him for being so bold. Completely unlike himself. He'd never tried fixing a person before. He figured they'd be harder than machines because they didn't have any emotions. They broke and could logically be put back together. Living creatures weren't logical, they were unpredictable and fickle. Therefore, Fixer knew he had his work cut out to bring Atin back to his usual closed, guarded self that made him his _vod_.

Fixer didn't say anything and neither did Atin. They just sat there is silent company but without the awkwardness of strangers. It wasn't an awkward silence at all, but not a pleasant one due to the recent events. Fixer just wanted Atin to know that people still cared, that he wasn't alone.

"It's okay to cry, _ner vod_," Fixer said finally, his voice quiet.

Atin looked at him, his eyes shining with unshed tears and Atin felt his resolve start to crumble under Fixer's steady gaze. Tears trailed down Atin's face. "I miss her," he whispered.

Fixer gently pulled his _vod_ into his arms, letting him cry on his shoulder. He couldn't imagine his grief. He didn't wish he could. He'd never seen Atin so distraught in all the time he'd known him. Atin's arms didn't move to hug him back, he just continued to cry.

"You should know, Vau asked to make that call himself. Kal was going to but Vau felt it was his duty to let you know. He cares, in his strange way, about us all." Fixer said.

Atin tensed slightly at his words and the sobbing stopped for a few seconds before he broke down again. Fixer held him tighter but he couldn't stop Atin from quivering with sadness. He was vaguely aware of his shirt getting soaked by his tears but couldn't bring himself to care. It had only been a few credits; he'd give up any number of them to fix Atin. But he couldn't buy Laseema back for him.

Fixer felt suddenly lost. He was always good at fixing things, but he was awful with words. Fi could have made Atin feel better by just talking, but it was a talent Fixer lacked. He wasn't good at cheering people up. He'd never found himself in a position like this to even take experience from. All he could think to do was hold him until he stopped. Fixer had known how much closer Atin was to Fi than anyone else – other than Laseema – and he'd almost lost him as well.

"I'm so sorry, Atin. You haven't deserved anything in this _aruetyc _life." He said, unable to think of anything. He then realised it sounded like Atin hadn't deserved anything at all, even in his shortened life. "I didn't mean it like you deserve nothing..." He said quickly. "I meant that you deserve to have your old squad, no scars and everything." He explained, and then frowned, thinking he'd said it wrong again. "Well, really you deserve to be a free man and have a family and a proper life..."

"_Ne'johaa_, shut up," Atin mumbled. "We all deserve proper lives apart from me."

Fixer wasn't expecting that at all. Words were spinning in his head but they were all wrong. He was awful at this. He should stick to machines; they didn't malfunction in the same way. Atin deserved a full and happy life as much as all the other clones.

"No... That's not true," Fixer said; his voice strained agonisingly as he tried desperately for something that would help him. "You deserve it as much as all of us." Fixer was aware that he didn't sound convincing, no matter how honest he was being. It was a generic reply to that sort of sentence and he was scared Atin would think he didn't care. He couldn't speak like Fi; Fi would have him feeling better by now. He felt helpless; unable to fix something – someone – was a horrific thought for him. It was like stripping his main talent away, without it he felt like nothing.

"Stop trying to be Fi," came Atin's voice, muffled by Fixer's shoulder. Fixer almost jumped. Atin knew exactly who he was trying to be – and failing badly at so doing.

"I'm sorry," Fixer said. "I don't know what to do, how to make you feel better. I can't find the words to help you, to..." He trailed off. He had been about to say 'fix you', but bit his tongue, not wanting Atin to take it the wrong way.

"I know," Atin said, the tears starting to stop. "I know what you're trying to do, but it isn't possible. I can't be fixed like that."

Fixer bit his lip. "I... I..." He trailed off. It was true. "I was trying to help," he whispered.

Atin slowly lifted his head to look at him. "I _know_," he said, slowly. "It's what you do, and believe it or not, it helped. In a weird way."

Fixer held back a small surge of victory. He wasn't useless, and maybe fixing people could be easier with more practice. Not that he wanted practice. He really didn't want people losing the loves of their lives so he could practice fixing them.

"Thank you," Atin said and Fixer shook himself mentally out of his thoughts.

"It's no problem," Fixer said. "Happy to help." – Atin almost smiled. Fixer was so bad with words it was almost funny. – "Well, not happy, because it's very sad... I just have no trouble with helping."

Atin watched him. He was the only one who'd thought to see if he was all right. Not even his own squad had done that. Maybe Fixer might have volunteered to come, but it seemed as if Fixer had come him on his own, without any pushing from others. Fixer looked slightly nervous, he noted, he probably wasn't used to clones crying in his arms. Atin then realised that Fixer, indeed, still had his arm around him. Atin surprised himself by realising that he didn't feel uncomfortable, he felt...safe? Or possibly as if he was…_home_.

Fixer was feeling more and more anxious under Atin's unblinkingly gaze. He couldn't actually tell what he was thinking and that worried him. He didn't like being in the dark.

Atin suddenly blinked, his eyes focusing on Fixer and a very weak smile touching his lips. "I don't know if you've fixed me, or just if you've let me know that losing Laseema isn't the end of the galaxy. But I'm not alone. I have you, and all my other _vode_."

Fixer blushed. It felt good, saving Atin. Maybe he'd more than fixed him. Maybe he'd _saved_ him.

"_Mando'a_ doesn't have a word for 'hero'," Atin continued quietly. "But to me, you feel like one right now. _Vor entye_, Fixer, I owe you."

Fixer shook his head. "You don't. I'm just happy you aren't thinking suicidal thoughts."

Atin laughed. It was a relieving sound to Fixer's ears, although he wasn't entirely sure what was funny. "I'm glad you are, _ner vod_." Atin said. Fixer replayed his words, realising he'd probably been a bit blunt there and ducked his head slightly.

Atin gently pulled out of his arms, a newfound respect for Fixer's attempts with words and trying to make him feel better. "I'll be fine, Fixer. You know me."

Fixer nodded, not all too convinced, and stood up. "Want to go get some caf?" He asked. He was nervous; he was fond of Atin and wanted him to be happy.

Atin shook his head. "I'm not ready to face the masses at the moment." He said but caught Fixer's arm and met his eyes, standing up.

"The future will be bright, we'll both find someone and we'll care for them as if they were ourselves." He said and a spark formed in his eyes as he said it. He was standing close to Fixer; a step closer would mean they were touching.

Fixer's tongue wet his lips subconsciously, very aware of Atin's proximity. "I... Uh..." He breathed.

"In the future, maybe…maybe…," Atin said, his voice almost inaudible. Fixer blinked, mildly embarrassed, and Atin turned and sat back on the bed.

Fixer released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and nodded before turning and leaving the apartment.

There was hope yet.

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><p><strong>Soooooooooooooooooooooo... Your thoughts? Comments? Please let me know! I need to know! :D<strong>


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